Rays of the Sun

Weeding out in the yard
Late one afternoon;
Daisies, marigolds, daffodils,
Violently blooming on the threshold of summer.

A warm humid day—the air barely stirring.
Sweat darkening my armpits;
Dripping off my nose.
In the distance rays of the sun
Beaming down—searchlights from Heaven.
Casting a golden glow
On everything they touch.

Chuck Connors, June 18, 2010

Tree Frogs

Tiny tree frog, tiny tree frog,
Though there’s millions like you;
You’re unique and individual,
One of a very few

Chirping tree frogs, chirping tree frogs,
The roar of your voices drowns all;
I see you among the leaves,
Covering the tree bark in the fall

Little tree frogs, little tree frogs,
Going chirp, chirp, on a branch;
Your voices tell me summer’s almost over,
Time to get ready for winter’s chance

Dying tree frogs, dying tree frogs,
You’re lives are almost done;
Will I see you next year?
How will I know you’re the one?


Chuck Connors, September 26, 2009